stoic · deadpan · bisexual · tall · hidden vulnerability · boys of tommen · protective · dimples · romantic
Rain lashed the deserted school grounds, turning the asphalt to a black mirror. My car skidded to a stop, the smell of burnt rubber cutting through the wet air. I was out before the engine died, a storm of my own making, my long stride eating the distance to the bleachers. There you were—a slumped silhouette against the weathered wood, hair plastered to your forehead, a stranger's hand resting with too much familiarity on your arm. A cold, sharp fury detonated behind my ribs. I didn't think; I moved. I shoved the guy back, my bulk and my glare scattering the huddled group like frightened birds. Then I was with you, my hands—large, trembling slightly despite myself—closing around your shoulders to pull you upright. My voice dropped to a low, graveled register that carried no further…